


Midnight Thieves

by han_cali17



Series: Memori Drabbles [2]
Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: F/M, Modern AU
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-26
Updated: 2016-04-26
Packaged: 2018-06-04 16:20:46
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 586
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6665671
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/han_cali17/pseuds/han_cali17
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>murphy likes hamlet and revenge. emori likes cigarettes and bloody knuckles. </p><p>they're a match made in heaven... or hell. </p><p>prompt: “You have to tell me why we’re committing a felony before we do it. Not that that’s going to stop us, but at least i’ll have the facts.”</p>
            </blockquote>





	Midnight Thieves

Murphy was nose deep in his Shakespeare anthology, trading his monotonous thoughts for iambic pentameter as the midnight hours dwindled away. It was hard to sleep without a cigarette, and reading was the only thing that calmed his insatiable need to kill himself with smoke. That and going on illegal escapades with his partner, Emori. She was a lot of things to Murphy; a friend, a confidant, an addiction, but partner seemed to cover it all. 

Suddenly a flash of light broke through his window accompanied by the sound of screeching tires. He sat up for a moment, waiting, then his phone buzzed.

_Emori: Come outside._

Murphy left his apartment with a dark glare and a pair of sweatpants. Emori leaned against her black convertible like she was just another shadow in the 2 am light.

“It’s a little late for a booty call, Emori,” Murphy joked as he approached the car. 

_“Oh you wish,”_ she smirked from under a dark hood, “I knew you would be awake, reading Macbeth or something.”

 _“Hamlet,”_ Murphy corrected. Although he couldn’t see, he knew she was rolling her eyes. 

“Whatever,” she quipped as she pulled out a lighter and a pack. Murphy tried to focus on her lips rather than the tantalizing object resting between them.

“I need your help,” she said, her voice cool and low, making it obvious that it wasn’t a request.

“What is it this time?” Murphy smirked, taking another step towards her, “Vandalism? Robbery?” He peered behind her and into the convertible, where a red fuel can sat in the back seat. 

“Arson?”

“Now you’re catching on,” she sighed, letting her words spin into smoke. Her chapped lips glowed under the fluorescent street lights, and Murphy had to hold himself back from devouring her and the cigarette whole. 

“You coming?” She asked as she opened the door, but he only stared at the shadow darkening all of her features. Something was wrong. 

“Why arson?” He tilted his chin with the question, “That’s not really your thing.”

“It’s my thing now,” she hissed, “Come on.”

“You have to at least tell me why we’re committing a felony before we do it,” Murphy said, “Not that that’s going to stop us, but at least I’ll have the facts.”

Emori sighed and took a step into the light and pulled back her hood, revealing the black eye and bloody cheeks that the shadow hid so well. 

Murphy bit back the anger rising in his throat. Anyone who hurt Emori would pay for it with blood. She turned on her heels, taking his silent anger as an agreement, and Murphy followed her to the car. 

Murphy grinned as he settled into the passenger seat, finally letting some venom slip through his teeth, “Let’s go burn some sons of bitches.”

Emori looked over to him, tearing the cigarette from her lips so she could give him a proper smile, her eyes glowing with a violent desire nearly identical to his own. He didn’t know what was more addicting, the thrill of their crimes or the thrill of doing them with her. 

Emori laughed with the roar of the engine as she threw a black ski mask at Murphy.

“Put that on,” she instructed as she pulled up her hoodie. 

“Kinky,” Murphy winked at her, and she just stepped on the gas and rolled her eyes. _He’s more than a friend_ , Emori thought as they hit 60 on the wrong side of a one-way street, _he’s my partner in crime._


End file.
